Matsu-cutus of Borg
by MatsuHerO
Summary: Matsu Her-O helps the Enterprise crew take on the nefarious Borg.


The hum of the Borg cube's engines buzzed in Jean-Luc Picard's brain as he struggled to regain control of himself. It had been countless hours since he was first abducted by the Borg, and several hours since he had undergone Borg conversion. Whereas those who normally underwent Borg conversion completely lost themselves and their identities to a collective hive-consciousness and numbering system, Picard–now dubbed Locutus, the only Borg with a name–was allowed to retain a shred of individuality. Picard recalled through a haze and a blinding headache the words of the Borg:

"Resistance is futile."

And indeed, it was.

Somewhere behind a body enslaved to the Borg Collective was a will, a mind, aggressively individual and analytical, a leader the likes of which hadn't been seen in generations–and yet, try as he might, Picard couldn't free himself from Borg control.

Locutus.

Locutus, a cog in the machine, a mere member of the Borg Collective. Locutus was all that remained on the surface. It might as well have been all that remained, period.

It was Picard's voice that came over the intercom system and addressed the Enterprise and his former Commander, William Riker, but Picard did not recognize the words as his own. "Your people will be assimilated," he droned. "Resistance is futile."

"Captain," came the reply after a moment of silence, "we have someone here who thinks he can help you." It was the voice of Picard's second-in-command, William Riker. "Hold on for one more moment, and we will beam him–"

Another voice that Picard did not recognize came over communications. "I don't think, Mr. Riker…"

Suddenly, the bridge of the Borg Cube was filled with a blinding white light. A few seconds later, the white light coalesced into the form of a tall, handsome, muscular young man with spiked black hair and a wicked awesome scar over his eye. "I know," the young man said definitively. All at once, Picard knew instinctively that the man before him was Matsu Her-O.

"Assimilate him," came the order from Locutus. Almost instantly, several Borg approached Matsu. Matsu swung around, revealing the mesh net on his back containing a partially-dismantled Lt. Commander Data. In Data's hands was a phaser rifle, which he discharged into the Borg drones with reckless abandon.

"This is highly irregular," protested Data, his detached legs bracing either side of his torso. If the android could properly feel and convey emotion, distress would currently be on the menu.

Matsu chuckled as he himself unleashed energy blast after energy blast at the oncoming cyborgs. "You can thank Luke Skywalker for the suggestion."

"With all due respect," replied Data, "your insistence upon bringing me along was in itself unnecessary. Preliminary scans of your power level indicate that you are more than capable of taking on the entire Borg ship yourself, and the Borg appear to be unable to adapt to your energy blasts." Data dropped the rifle as it had ceased to do damage to the enemy.

Matsu, who had cleared away all but one drone–Locutus himself–from the bridge, approached the lone Borg. "Captain Picard," he said firmly, "I know you're in there somewhere, and I can help you back to yourself. Will you come quietly?"

"You will be assimilated," came the reply from Locutus.

Matsu sighed. "So we have to do this the hard way? I was afraid of that. If there truly no other way…?" Matsu steepled his fingers, closed his eyes, and searched his feelings. Within seconds, he knew what had to be done, and spoke with purpose. "Communicate this logic problem throughout the entire Borg collective: The Borg may be powerful, but who are the Borg compared to Matsu Her-O?"

Locutus was silent for a moment, his mouth agape. Then, small billows of smoke erupted from Locutus's joints, followed by sparks. Small pulpy pops, like brains bursting inside of skulls, could be heard throughout the entire Borg Cube. Finally, Locutus swooned, a black viscous liquid pouring from his lips. Matsu rushed to his side and held him, keeping him from falling. He placed Locutus gently on the ground and held his hand.

"M-Matsu," spoke Locutus–Picard once again, his mind free from Borg control, "sh-she was, was t-too strong for me…"

"Shh," replied Matsu, "save your strength, Captain. We may still be able to save you."

Picard shook his head slowly. "N-no, my friend. Even now, I h-hear her, in my head." He gripped Matsu's hand. Sobbing could be heard over the intercom–the Enterprise, soon to be a crew without a captain. "You know what you must do."

A lone tear trickled down Matsu's handsome cheek. "Oh Captain, my Captain," he said, as he raised is hand to Picard's throat and squeezed. The capillaries in Picard's left eye burst and appeared bloodshot. Picard struggled for breath, clawing at Matsu's grip of iron as Matsu compressed his larynx and cut off his oxygen. In a matter of minutes, it was over.

Matsu stayed in his kneeling position. He picked up Picard's ever-cooling corpse and held it at chest level. At once, Matsu let out a primal scream of anguish and anger. No time to mourn, he thought. There was work still to be done here.

Matsu rushed to the intercom and pulled up the view screen. Riker, the chick who voiced Demona, Wil Wheaton and his sort-of-hot doctor mom, and the alien guy stood around silent.

Riker was the first to speak. "Matsu," he said, composing himself, "I suppose this means we are in need of a captain now. I personally extend to you an invitation on behalf of the Federation–"

"No," said Matsu, cutting him off. "This isn't over yet. Captain Picard was really cool. I mean, not as cool as Kirk, but still mentionable. We will have our revenge, Enterprise. I will have my revenge. I swear on the lives of everyone on the Armageddon Zebra: The Queen will pay!"


End file.
